Soda Water and Chocolate
by Lykosdracos
Summary: COMPLETE. During the scene where Roux asks for soda water for the little girl he's with. Comments appreciated!
1. Default Chapter

Soda Water and Chocolate  
  
Tunialt is sleeping now and I have nothing better to do than compose a new song or two. The music relaxes me and I can escape where just the current and melodic notes flow as easily as water through a sift. Tunialt is one of my closest friends and I would trust him with my life, nearly have once or twice. His daughter is barely seven and already there is great potential in her singing.  
  
I've nicknamed her Sirena for exactly that reason. We've done duets a few times, she sings a simple melody and I play my guitar to keep up with her song. She always hums to herself when she thinks no one listens, but we all hear regardless. None of us say anything because shy as she is, if she knew she would stop.  
  
Her mother is a lot like these people who just stand and stare at us on our boats boycotting us resting on their shores. She couldn't stand the thought of traveling on the river so she abandoned Sirena and Tunialt for riches and glamour. I think we got the better side of the deal.  
  
I lay my guitar down to rest on the table in my boat and take Sirena's hand. I can tell that she is thirsty which reminds me that I have to stock up on supplies a mile or so down river from here. I would have docked there except there's no room for more even two boats and we have more than four.  
  
"Going to get her a little soda-water, aye?" I roused Tunialt from where he slept so he would know where his daughter was. With his nod of assent she and I venture into town. I try to avoid them as best I can. They want nothing to do with me and I don't want anything from them.  
  
I've long ago realized that some towns will never change, they will keep their ways until the world changes with them or they smother themselves in righteousness. The Count who dictates in this area does so with an iron fist and disciplinary action. The only person I've ever seen go against him is a woman and her little girl that bought a few necklaces from me yesterday. She openly defied the Count and I admire her for that because while we are free to go when we please, she must stay and face the consequences.  
  
I can see flyers in windows 'Boycott Against Immorality.' I would be amused had they not meant it seriously. There's a bar that's open coming up and hardly anyone's inside. I ignore the poster on the door and step inside with Sirena close at my side. She's frightened by how everyone stops speaking and rivets there glares on us as if that will make us go away.  
  
"All she wants is a little soda-water." I try for her sake because all we have left on the boats is rum, whiskey, and food. The food will sate her hunger but do nothing for thirst. The man behind the bar points to the sign knowing damn well that I've already seen it.  
  
"She's just a child!" I protest. How dare they? It makes me want to leap over the bar and take him down a notch or two. I can see how, not accept, but understand if he would choose not to serve me anything. . . but a child! They speak of immorality, they should look to themselves first.  
  
I won't do anything to them this time, be the better man and all that. I really don't want to but I figure that more traveling gypsies will come after us and they might have a chance at a small welcome. If I fought this man and won, I could do no less if I initiated the fight, then it would put a black mark over the rest of the people who might venture here.  
  
Sirena squeezes my hand reassuringly, her eyes tell me that she doesn't want anything anymore. It's just pathetic when people who preach about gods will won't take mercy upon a little girl. I don't see any logic in that at all. I squeeze her hand in return relaying to her not to worry. If I have to walk three miles then that's what I'll do. I won't beg anyone for anything, it goes against everything inside me to do so, but I promised her that I would get her something to ease her stomach and that's what I'm going to do.  
  
The woman from yesterday is arranging chocolate in the window. I remembered her daughter saying something about chocolate but it never occurred to me that she would start a business from it. Very brave woman to do such a thing in this town. She motions for us to come in but I hesitate. I can see a few people peeking out from behind shuttered windows and I don't want to hurt profit for her.  
  
"My stomach hurts." Sirena says suddenly, I know why too. The smells escaping the chocolaterie would tempt even a saint. I've had chocolate before but I never really wanted any again. I don't care for it very much although a little here and there's all right.  
  
"I have just the thing." She goes back inside the shop and looks for something near the counter.  
  
"What about the boycott against immorality?" I ask. She gives me a look, she's only seconds away from rolling her eyes.  
  
"C'mon in." she smiles and when the door shuts I notice that it creaks on the rusty hinges.  
  
She gives Sirena a plate with some cacao leaves and a little chocolate sauce on the side. I look around while Sirena eats, the way everything's arranged is perfect for the mysteriousness of the store.  
  
"This tastes strange." Sirena comments as she eats another leaf.  
  
"Maybe your daddy would like to try some?" she glances up at me knowing that I won't ask for anything and I don't have the money to buy much.  
  
"He's not my daddy, he's my pony." She grins when she says that and offers me a leaf. I shake my head no, by the time she finishes she'll be full and not thirsty anymore.  
  
"Here, try some." Her little girl comes down the stairs and upon noticing Sirena takes another type of chocolate sauce from a rack.  
  
"Mmm. s'good." Sirena and the girl laugh and then they go upstairs.  
  
"You have to meet Pantufle." She whispers confidentially, "He's my kangaroo. . ."  
  
"I bet you this is your favorite.' The woman holds out a piece of chocolate and almost dares me to try it.  
  
"How do you know it's my favorite?" I raise an eyebrow and dare her back.  
  
"I just know. Now try it." I take a bite and at once strawberry, cacao beans, and another subtle flavor explodes in my mouth.  
  
"It's good." I comment, one of the best I've ever had actually, "But not my favorite."  
  
Determination sparkles in her eyes and I know that both she and I have been tempted to find one another's likes and dislikes. The girls come back down the stairs and I notice the shape of a bottle in Sirena's pocket. The mother winks and smiles at her daughter. I know that it's time for us to be going anyway, we can't encroach on their hospitality anymore.  
  
"Your door creaks." I look back over my shoulder to her, "If you like I can come back and fix it for you."  
  
"I'll have to insist on paying you for it." She warns.  
  
"That makes two of us." Sirena takes my hand again and I refrain from looking back again. I left the game open to negotiation, the next move was hers.  
  
"They were nice weren't they, Roux?" Sirena skipped along keeping step with me.  
  
"Yes, very nice." I agreed.  
  
That had certainly been interesting, it would be very interesting, however, to see what her next move was. Next time though it will be on familiar territory and the townspeople won't be watching. 


	2. Roux's POV 2

Coming Or Not?  
  
He tried to avoid her, once the door was finished he stayed onshore and worked on the newest song he felt. The wind was perfect here, calm and settled and wonderful to writing music too. At least with the mood he was in, normally he'd play in the midst of a storm with the wind howling and the rain battering down, but something here seemed... right.  
  
Vianne was unlike anyone he'd ever met before, she didn't conform to the townspeople's sense of duty and law. She opened her store to him and whichever crewmember wished to step inside the door. The boycotting immorality didn't apply to her and she refused to even look at the signs as she went passed.  
  
It was a way of life for us, there were very few places we could go to escape the condemnation of the righteous. Ireland was one of them, his hometown where a welcome was always ready and coin always willingly given. Hospitality was in their blood, that and taking care of what meant something to them.  
  
A river rat's life was much different, they didn't have to worry about anything other than making sure supplies were always at hand and their boats would hold up to the weather. Life was always unpredictable and accommodating to nature's unavoidable wrath.  
  
There are some who cannot fathom such a life, but for those who could... they would never lack for anything. Roux didn't expect anything except that the pitch and wood stay firm, and those he traveled with were faithful.  
  
Other than that he used the sky to navigate by, and the atmosphere of the night and day to compose his songs. He had no home, not even his boats. They were just a means to get from place to place. It was dangerous to put down roots, to make an inanimate object into something that mattered.  
  
A home. He didn't know much about that, what he did know of homes was that a rare few carried it inside of them. That's what made a house a home, the inner warmth and pure joy of living. Why did one need four walls and objects?  
  
He sighed as he looked out into the waters of the ocean, ever changing and never still. It was a blessing, but a curse as well. He sometimes allowed himself to think about what life would be like should he really settle down and set down roots himself.  
  
He'd be packed and sailing by the end of that thought. This was the first time he actually had stayed to think it out.  
  
Vianne.  
  
She defied all laws, but still made them feel welcome. Roux didn't have that same compassion towards them. He could recite everything the clergy men had told them, he had words of pity and condemnation burned into his mind.  
  
I'm sorry for the path you've chosen, it's not your fault you're a riverrat! Filthy animals, you don't have the right to abide in the same room as us! Attend mass with us, wash clean the darkness of your souls  
  
Ever trying to change man from what he was. They were never content with anyone until they had become the model villager content to wallow away what little time was left on rules and morals.  
  
Just the thought of the disdain in their eyes, the fact that some of them refused to offer them simple services others took for granted, made him angry enough to start knocking heads together. He didn't though, if he resorted to such tactics he would be no better than they.  
  
"Will you play pirates with me again?" Anouk asked watching him play guitar from the dock.  
  
"Does your mother know you're here?" he asked lowering the volume of the music a little, but still continuing to play. The sound was a soft melody of sadness and grief, he could no more stop playing than cut off his own hand.  
  
"She doesn't mind." Anouk smiled, "Pantoufle wanted to walk by the water."  
  
Pantoufle was her imaginary friend, the kangaroo who was injured in a war so he could no longer hop. Roux had never had an imaginary friend, the only thing that had ever mattered to him was his guitar.  
  
They'd been through a lot together, it had been a way for him to express things he couldn't say. Bright, sad, angry, reckless any who heard his music felt the same, they understood things through his music.  
  
"Maybe later." He said, but not unkindly.  
  
"Alright." She climbed aboard the boat and sat cross-legged to watch him. "Do you mind?"  
  
"Whatever suits you." He didn't mind, she was always quiet when he was composing, it was as if she understood the complexity of what he was feeling and was loathe to disturb it.  
  
He could be happy here, this was the first place aside from Ireland where he might be able to stay without feeling the wind pulling him to places yet unexplored. This was also the first place he had been where his mind hadn't shied away from the thought.  
  
Remembering the way Vianne was willing to sacrifice her life for her daughter, and almost did at the fire. He knew he'd do anything to protect Anouk from harm, not only that but Vianne as well. Would he be able to sail away from them and not think about returning?  
  
"It's so sad." Anouk remarked quietly, "Your song, why is it so sad?"  
  
"I don't know." He shrugged, "Does it bother you?"  
  
"No." the wind made the leaves on the trees rustle, "I'd better get back now, Pantoufle says it's time to go."  
  
"Take care, and don't run. The rocks are sharp there." He remembered how one little boy had nearly broken his ankle on the way.  
  
"I won't." she smiled and impulsively gave him a hug. "Don't be sad. Come visit us if you are, Mama will make you happy again."  
  
"That she will." Roux grinned. "That she will."  
  
Months passed and he couldn't get the little village out of his mind. Passing through the streets of Ireland he saw a sign for fresh chocolates. Vianne still didn't know what his favorite was, strange how he wanted to tell her. Or rather he wanted to see the look of mischief in her eyes when picked the wrong one just to get him to come back again.  
  
He wondered how the door had held up, and wanted to find that out too. Making up his mind he ignored the slanted glances directed his way and went back to the docks. It was time to go home. 


End file.
